"Oh, me, oh, my," I whispered to Westy who was just in front of me. "Pee-wee's got them started. Isn't he the little heart-breaker?"
He marched back again when we got to the other corner, standing up as high as he could, so as to lift the placards and looking straight ahead of him with a sober face.
"Oh, I think he's just as cute as he can be," one of the girls in the auto said.
Just then a little dog came running out of one of the stores and scooted between Pee-wee's legs and good night, down he went, sprawling on the ground with one leg kicking through one of the big placards and his arms all mixed up in the rope.
"Watch your step," I said. I just couldn't help it.
"Where's that dog?" Pee-wee yelled, all the while trying to straighten things out and get up. "I'll—I'll——"
"A scout is always kind to animals," Wig said; "the poor little dog was in a hurry, that was all."
"That dog was going scout pace," I said; "you should worry."
By now, Pee-wee was all tangled up with the two big placards and the rope that had held them together, and the whole business, Pee-wee, placards, rope and all, looked like a double sailor's knot having an epileptic fit. Laugh! We simply screamed.